Eis Necropolin Elthomen [IC]

[Belial_the_Leveler]

Despite being drawn by a quartet of horses, the impressive and impressively cumbersome carriage still had problems navigating the narrow path through the ancient woods. Oaks towering sixty or more feet in height, with trunks five to ten feet in diameter, undergrowth taller than a man and too tangled and thick for even an ogre to walk through, the narrow, unpaved road was the only passage for a party of any numbers without the use of magic. And regardless of lady Mordellen's frequent protests, her captain of the guard - a heavily armored knight built like the aforementioned ogre and in his late forties - absolutely refused to leave the carriage behind or divide his forces.

Thus it came to pass that the young noble and her escort of twenty armed men had passed the last three days trekking through the woods at a pace that would challenge any man's patience. The tower guards in the group hadn't exactly been welcoming to the few mercenaries rounding out their numbers; somehow, scouting patrols always happened in such a way that no mercenary had met the lady yet or got time to socialize with her or her two handmaidens riding in the carriage. On the other hand, perhaps the captain's harsh schedule had been responsible for no trouble having come up in the past few days, despite the forest's dark reputation.

But tonight, things seemed about to change. Three of the guards had been gone for five minutes too long in their last scouting trip and the captain had just called for everyone to arm themselves and strike their recently erected camp for the night...

[mote]

Zan gets up from the stump he'd been sitting on near the fire and begins quietly helping the others strike the camp on the captain's command. The other guards mostly seemed content to ignore him, and that suited Zan just fine. His appearance alone aroused fear and suspicion in the humans, but his habitual slips into the Shadow Speech could rile them to actual violence. And these days, restraint was not his strong suit. It was best for everyone that he kept to himself.

"Violence begets violence," he mused softly. Or perhaps it was "Xhak ab'thrakul" - Chaos conquers all.

The mercenary company he'd been working with these past few months seemed level-headed at least. Or maybe they were just weird enough themselves that a red-eyed Abyssal-speaking Tengu didn't raise any alarms. His last company had made it clear that he was no longer welcome, as had the one before that. He was getting accustomed to it now. Things would be steady for a while, and then a village child would go missing, or a barn would burn down, and the clients would blame "someone" in their company (while carefully avoiding looking at Zan, of course) and use it as an excuse to refuse payment. Pretty soon the band would have enough. Just business and all that. Maybe this time would be different. Either way, his writings had told him that this job would be lucrative. And the writings, though sometimes devious, were rarely wrong.

Once he gathers his things and sees to the fire, Zan draws his blade and takes up position with the other mercenaries. Whispering a quick incantation, he turns his gaze deeper into the woods to watch for any ongoing magical effects.

Hope Gray is cool with everyone.

Casting Detect Magic and checking for auras in the woods

[Shadowbranch1]

Alastaire was glad to be away from his past. He had joined up with the group both as a way to make some extra coin and to distance himself from certain people. The last three days had been somewhat uneventful. He had not really gotten to know his traveling companions too well. The person that they were escorting was turning out to be quite a pain in the neck, but he did not care as long as the coin was there. The rest of his traveling companions were a pretty dour sort, especially the captain of the guard. He was a no-nonsense type of person, but Alastaire figured that was a good quality for someone in his position to have. He could not do such a job; life was just too short not to have a little fun. Rules and standards were important to have in place in any endeavor, but there was nothing to say that you had to hate your job in order to do it right.

The guards that had left to scout ahead had been gone for longer than expected. The order from the captain to strike camp and arm themselves was a little unexpected. However, it was better to be safe than sorry. So Alastaire brought his crossbow to bear, checked the cables, and loaded a bolt into the receiver. He cautiously scanned the forest around them, looking and listening for anything out of place.

Cantrips memorized: Acid Splash, Detect Magic, Light, Mage Hand
1st level spells memorized: Comprehend Languages*, True Strike*, Ray of Enfeeblement, Burning Hands, Protection from Evil
2nd level spells memorized: Detect Thoughts*, Scorching Ray x2

[Jormengand]

Solia sighed. She didn't say anything, just walked along with crossbow in hand and longsword at the ready. Nobody really knew much about her, and nor did she care to know any of them. She wasn't particularly keen on this, but she supposed that it wasn't going to hurt too much.

She had her crossbow loaded, and looked about, sighing again. She looked at Alistaire, who was also waving his crossbow around. Well, this is going to be fun, she thought. She checked that all of her weaponry was in order, and then looked about.

Perception [roll0]

[Belial_the_Leveler]

Captain Derek calls you over as the armored warriors take guard positions around the lady's carriage. You can hear more than one girl's voice from within, engaged in furious whispered discussion but can't make head or tails of what they're saying - the words make no sense.

The captain clearing his throat draws your attention again. Can't move on without them three fools that are late and my men are sworn not to leave the lady in times of peril. He stares at you with a gleam in his eye. But you're sellswords. No such oath for you. Go out in the woods and find them damn fools. They were supposed to scout all the way to a small bridge half a mile from here. We'd have been there yesterday if not for the rain last night.

[mote]

Zan feels a pang of pity for the lady in the carriage. He wondered if she was sad about marrying a man she'd never met. Then again, that might just be an afterthought to her, and they were just be arguing about the color of the flowers at the wedding. Nobles were such bizarre creatures.

When the captain barks his orders Zan nods, then turns to Laureshe, "Looks like we'll both have to watch oursevles. None of these kurszheks will be."

Keeping my sword at the ready and keeping up Detect Magic to detect the presence of any magical auras out to 60ft. I'll go with the group when we're ready to start off.

[Shadowbranch1]

Alastaire listens to the captain’s words. Of course it would be the mercenaries that get to do the dirty work. Why would the captain want to risk his own men? Sellswords were a silver a dozen apparently. Still the notion of leaving the group did not sit well with him. He swallowed his personal feelings and set about getting ready to go. Besides, with the way that this journey was going, being away from the caravan may just be the safest thing.

“Excuse me Captain, but I am not sure how this works in our contract. I have no issues doing as I am bid, but in the unfortunate instance that when we leave to pursue this duty if the caravan is attacked, and the Gods forbid, you are torn to bits by some wild beast, how will we get paid? I honestly do not wish any ill to befall you or any of your stalwart companions; I just want to ensure that terms are understood by both parties.”

Alastaire asked with a genuinely interested look glued to his face.

[Belial_the_Leveler]

I don't like this wood. It's too quiet. the captain grunts before eyeing a thicket of trees balefully. The sooner we leave, the less trouble we'll find. He scowls at you. And for that I need my men found. They're to disciplined to be late.

[Shadowbranch1]

Alastaire gathers up his belongings and sets everything in order. His crossbow is loaded and his pack is strapped on tightly to his back. He practices a few stretches to make sure that he is limbered up for whatever they may encounter in the woods. He reaches down to the ground and picks up a few small stones. Once he completes his momentary preparations he turns to the group of mercenaries.

“We aren’t gonna be able to get where we are going until we find the errant scouts. May as well get this over with.”

He waits ready to advance down the path.

[mote]

Zan moves forward along with Alastaire, his sword at the ready. "Agreed. I suppose we should just head down the road until we find the bridge? Half a mile isn't too far."

[Jormengand]

"Whatever we're doing, can we get on with it?" Solia opines, a sour look stuck to her face. "I'd rather make this a thing that happened quickly, rather than taking us until next year."

[Belial_the_Leveler]

Only a few hundred feet down the narrow, heavily forested path all sounds from the camp are entirely muffled by the woods. You can't even hear the captain shouting orders anymore... and then is when you find the first signs of trouble.


A small patch of undergrowth has been trampled as if by large, heavy individuals in a hurry. The trio of missing guards with their metal armor and greaves could fill that description easily enough but they aren't supposed to charge through the forest like that, especially when beyond contact range of the camp itself. What could cause them to act like this - if it was, indeed, the missing guards' fault?


Time for some survival, perception, or knowledge: nature checks.
Also, any actions you want to take to assume specific formation or other preparations. Do note that the forest is difficult terrain for the undergrowth, interrupted by impassable terrain for the large trees (you can't walk through a tree trunk) or boulders. Most areas provide cover, concealment or both. Only the path itself is clear of obstructions.

[mote]

Zan claps his hands together and recites a series of incantations. His eyes glint briefly, and he walks over to the broken underbrush to get a better look.

"Aa, gh'em xhakziz...Why would they run into the woods? Were they chasing someone? I can't imagine they'd be running from anyone."

Casting Guidance for a +1 to my Perception check. Looking at the underbrush to see if I can tell how many sets of footprints, which way they were headed, or anything strange about them.
Also (as long as nothing jumps out at me :smallwink:) I'm casting Detect Magic and focusing on the brush and the woods beyond to see if there's any lingering auras, summoned creatures about, etc.

Perception (+3) [roll0]

[Shadowbranch1]

Alastaire studies the ground for a moment. He looks at the trampled earth and tries to figure out what would have made such a depression. He concentrates for a moment and whispers a few words. He then begins to turn his head slightly and slowly to the right and left, searching with an eldritch conscience for anything that may give a clue.

Alastaire is casting Detect Thoughts and searching for anything within the range of the spell that registers.

[Belial_the_Leveler]

It doesn't take long for Laureshe to find more disquieting evidence of trouble; on some of the hacked undergrowth there are distinctive drops of crimson; blood. And it is still dry. After a bit of careful observation, he notices much of the mud in the trampled ground has a slightly red hue, as well as tiny shards of a black, glasslike stone that looks clean enough to have been recently broken, with its sharper, cleaner edges tinted silver-grey by even tinier slivers of metal. Laureshe is certain now that a fight happened here not long ago, though he isn't certain of any details.


Zan's detection spell reveals almost instantly the presence of a magical aura of immense power surrounding the group. Zan is about to panic when he remembers the woods are supposed to be magical, and an enchanted place as large as this forest that has remained so for as long as this forest has been here would have an aura strong enough to dwarf mortal magic. But the forest's aura is diffuse, not focused on any one place or effect; after a moment Zan adapts and can see through it.
What he senses is ugly. He is not entirely sure this word would accurately describe the magic he senses but it's better than being accurate. Because the magic used in the trampled area causes in him the same revolting, instinctual responce as a man disfigured by disease so far to no longer warrant the name, misshapen limbs oozing foul-smelling pus from open sores the size of small grapes. That's how this magic feels in his mind's eye...

[mote]

Zan mutters a string of curses in Abyssal. "This is bad, guys. Ab'khurrul! There was some seriously foul magic at work here. I can see it lingering all over the brush." He walks over to examine the shard Laureshe's hand.

Does the shard itself have any magical properties? I'm still using Detect Magic, so I'll roll a Spellcraft to detect its properties. Also using Knowledge (Arcana) (w Guidance) and Knowledge (Planes) to see if I've encountered anything similar in my studies.
Spellcraft: [roll0]
Knowledge(Arcana) w Guidance: [roll1]
Knowledge(Planes): [roll2]

[Belial_the_Leveler]

The shards appear to be common, nonmagical obsidian. Sharpened obsidian is often used for weapons in primitive cultures, and for props in many foul rites. Nothing more of interest can be found about these specific shards - they're too small to give any hints without more complicated magical or alchemical analysis. They don't seem to be magical or even have lingering auras - those auras seem to be following the trail of blood drops further down the road...

[mote]

"Well, I guess we ought to follow the trail into the woods. I doubt the captain will care to send us any extra help, but it wouldn't hurt to leave a message."

Zan pulls a sheet from his journal and writes a note in a hasty script:

"FOUND SIGNS OF VIOLENCE + GHAZAK'ZH EVIL MAGICS. FOLLOWED TRAIL OF BLOOD/MAGIC INTO WOODS"

He stabs a twig through the page and affixes it to the ground near the edge of the path then starts moving into the woods past the broken underbrush, sword drawn. "Watch yourselves, gentlemen. I have a very bad feeling about this."

[Belial_the_Leveler]

Following the trail, you soon get turned back to the main road after only a couple hundred feet of trekking through the woods. You're already sweaty by all the heat and humidity but what you see sends a shiver down your spines all the same;

The three missing guards are arrayed in the center of the road with their booted feet touching and their shoulders arcing outwards in a rough triskelion. Their bodies have suffered numerous mutilations, their armor and limbs pierced in dozens of places. Slowly oozing blood is flowing into ritualistic patterns carved in the soil around them. And their heads are missing, ghastly, gnawed-upon stumps all that remains of their necks...

[Belial_the_Leveler]

As Laureshe gets close to the bodies, the closest corpse's mailed arm swings upwards without warning and hits him like a hammer. All three corpses begin to stir, eddies of necromantic magic getting stronger around them even as the local temperature plummets and the forest seems to be getting darker...


Everyone roll initiative and post combat actions

[mote]

"Ab'khurrul! Pirras zhivek sh'nukh!"*

Assuming there's no point in keeping up appearances in front of the party, Zan sheathes his sword and sprouts a set of huge black claws from his hands, speaking an incantation as he does so that causes them to shimmer with magical energy.

"Blast it all! This is no ordinary magic!"
Move: Sheath sword
Free: Activate Eldritch Claws
Standard: Cast Divine Favor (+1 att/+1 dmg)
Initiative: [roll0]

[Jormengand]

"Oh great. It's just not our day, is it?"

Solia fired her crossbow nonchalantly at the creature, and chucked it aside - aiming vaguely for somewhere she could find it again - before running forwards with her sword and shield to stand in front of the others. "Whatever you are, let's see you fight me."

Initiative [roll0]
Crossbow to the face [roll1] ([roll2])
Sword as free during move; shield as swift during move, stand between allies and beastie but not too close to beastie, assuming that's at all possible.

[Shadowbranch1]

Alastaire stumbled back as the creature lurched towards one of his group. He could not believe what was happening. Thousands of thoughts ran through his mind. He wondered what sort of magic could do such a thing. He had seen and heard of various types of undead creatures, but nothing such as this. He let the concentration of his previous spell lapse and took aim at the closest creature. He whispered a silent prayer in his mind that he was sure would not be heard before loosing the bolt from his weapon.


Initiative[roll0]
Attack [roll1]
Damage [roll2]

[Belial_the_Leveler]

Bolt after bolt strikes home at the closest shambling headless corpse, the tiny holes made by piercing weapons naught but an inconvenience to something already dead. With battered mail clanging against stone, the corpses of the knights come ponedously to their feet and turn towards you.

Already hit by one of the dead things, Laureshe remembers all the terrible stories he's heard of undead monsters. Those that become stronger with every drop of blood they spill. Those that drain life and vitality with a touch. Those whose attacks waste their targets with the wear of years or centuries, aging flesh, rotting cloth, rusting away metal. Those who are hosts to diseases, infecting and killing you even if you defeat them. And worst of all, those that make you one of them when you die.
But which one is it?! Laureshe is certain some sort of foulness touched him when the dead thing did, something unholy and unnatural. Under the pain of the blow, he can feel it lingering... but has no idea what kind of doom has just struck.

[mote]

Zan readies himself to rush the creatures, but seeing their response (or lack thereof) to the crossbow bolts, he thinks the better of it and casts a warding spell. Undead weren't his speciality. In fact, he could feel the dark forces within him stir at their presence - like a reunion between old friends.

Casting Protection From Evil. I'll see about attacking next turn :smallwink:

Zan (http://www.myth-weavers.com/sheetview.html#id=75797)
HP: 22/22
Str: 16, Dex: 12, Con: 12, Int: 12, Wis: 10, Cha: 20
AC: 20, Touch 13, FF 19
Fort: +4, Ref: +4, Will: +6
Init.: +1, Speed: 30'
Available Spells: Lv0: --, Lv1: 6/8, Lv2: 4/4
Ongoing effects: Divine Favor (9 rds); Protection From Evil (5 min)

[Shadowbranch1]

Alastaire dropped his weapon to his feet. Apparently his crossbow was not going to be much use against creatures such as these. He concentrated for a few moments and drew the arcane energy to complete the spell. He looked at the closest creature as he began to fill his hands with the burning radiance he would unleash on them. He hoped that this would have more of an effect on the creature than his crossbow did.


Scorching Ray ranged touch attack
Scorching Ray Damage [roll]4d6 wont accept my roll. Shifting to OOC to keep from cluttering the thread.